


Lose Myself in Time

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: "Did you know there was a flood here?", AME Louis, Box Office Manager Harry, Crush at First Sight, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Intern Harry, M/M, Post-Flood, Regional Theater AU, Small Towns, Smut, Teen Crush, Ten Years Later, i can't believe that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-21 18:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12463791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: Reason #15: The chance to show your childhood bed some action.When Harry is sixteen years old he works as an intern at his favorite theater in the world nestled up in the mountains of rural Vermont. He takes one look at the older, more mature, Assistant Master Electrician Louis Tomlinson and falls in love.  From afar.Ten years later a terrible storm hits the village, and the theater asks for any and all former staff members to pitch in for the clean up. Harry takes some time off work and returns to help, only to find himself in the presence of his old crush once again.





	Lose Myself in Time

**Author's Note:**

> My reason was 15. The chance to show your childhood bed some action.
> 
> I definitely took a different spin on it, so I hope you like it!
> 
> Title of the song and embeded lyrics come from the song One and Only by Adele.

 

_You've been on my mind_  
_I grow fonder every day_  
_Lose myself in time_  
_Just thinking of your face_  
_God only knows why it's taken me_  
_So long to let my doubts go_  
_You're the only one that I want_

_I don't know why I'm scared,_  
_I've been here before_  
_Every feeling, every word_  
_I've imagined it all_  
_You'll never know if you never try_  
_To forget your past and simply be mine_

 

**⭒✯ 2010 ✯⭒**

Harry Styles loved the theater and he loved Vermont. They were odd interests, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

One theater in particular was nestled in a tiny little hamlet called Riverney, and was aptly named The Riverney Playhouse. The building itself was an old church that had been converted into a theater at some point in the early thirties. While the building was charming, it’s best feature was the river that ran behind it from which it got it’s name.

A dam had been put in at some point in the nineteenth century to control the flow of the river and harness the generated power to run the old fashioned mill. The mill still ran every Saturday morning like clockwork, tours were available for a small fee.

Harry loved this town.

His mother Anne first came to the theater in the seventies with her friends from college, and then never really stopped coming. Every summer she piled into the car with her friends and made the trip up into the mountains.

When she met Harry’s father she told him she would be going anyway and he could come if he wanted to join her. He did.

Eventually, they had Harry’s older sister Gemma, and then a few years later, Harry was a few months old, strapped into a baby seat in the back, and his parents were paying a babysitter to come with them for the weekend.

Finally, _finally_ , Harry was old enough to work there for the summer. He had just turned sixteen in February, his mother had signed every possible waiver the company could think of so that they could legally house a sixteen year old, and next thing he knew, his mom was dropping him off on the steps of the very empty, not yet open for the season, Riverney Playhouse.

He clutched his pillow to his chest and surveyed the tiny little tear-drop shaped town green that he had looked at so many times before. They usually came up for their first visit in July, and their second in August, so Harry felt a little out of place there at the end of May.

The sun was high in the sky, and while he was used to it being rainy, or on the rare occasion oppressively hot and humid for Vermont, this time there was a slight chill in the breeze as it cut through his thinning henley that he had worn for the three hour drive.

His mom stood off to the side chatting with the company manager, but they must have reached the end of their conversation because the other woman - Glenne, she said her name was - finally offered to show him to his room.

He couldn’t believe that he would be living inside the Playhouse. He had only ever seen the public rooms that most audience members saw, but apparently, according to Glenne, there were six smaller rooms behind the balcony of the theater.

Ten minutes into his summer and his mind was already blown.

Glenne unlocked one of the front doors that Harry had only ever seen flung open in welcome, and led them to a staircase Harry knew existed, but that had always been roped off.

They trudged up the worn down treads, took a left, and there was a small hallway that did actually have three small six foot by eight foot rooms, each with a window, a twin bed, and a small dresser. The rooms were cramped enough that it was no wonder they stuck the interns up there. His mother eyed the arrangement skeptically, but Harry was practically vibrating with excitement as Glenne explained where his bathroom was, and that there were three rooms on the other side of the staircase as well.

Glenne left them to unpack, and eventually it was time for his mother to head back home. She wasn’t looking forward to the three hour drive back to Massachusetts, and she kept giving him sidelong glances before turning away to subtly wipe at the corners of her eyes.

Harry  knew where and when he needed to report in the morning, so he settled onto his small mattress with his quilt around him, nerves buzzing in anticipation.

 

Harry’s first two weeks on the job were spent in the dewy chill that was late spring in New England trekking back and forth between his small room on the upper level of the Playhouse, and the administrative offices about a quarter of a mile up the road.

He was glad he packed a few fleeces and long pants, because temperatures could still dip as low as 30 degrees at night even at the end of May.  

There were definitely other company members that were already in town for the season, but free company housing was spread out amongst various ski rental houses that allowed the Playhouse to use them for the summer, and Harry was still stuck in the office, so he hadn’t met anyone besides the office staff yet.

When it was finally time for them to set up the physical box office that would stay up for the summer, Harry was so ready. He loved the behind the scenes office work, he did, but he couldn’t wait for everything to get up and running.

The Playhouse building itself doubled as the village's town hall during the winter months, and it had fallen on Harry to take all of the town’s rather depressing Americana hunting paintings down and temporarily replace them with the summer decorations like production history lists and photos and posters from shows gone by. When he was getting everything out of storage, he amused himself by counting all of the photos and posters he recognized from shows he had seen. It was a very high number.

They loaded up his supervisor's car, made a pit stop at the local mini-mart and gas station to say hello to Jeff the owner and pick up their coffee for the day, before trudging down the hill to the Playhouse. It was incredibly odd to leave his room to go to work, only to return to the building to also go to work.

Because it was the first day any of the company members could be in the public areas of the building, Harry and his supervisor would be setting up the front of house, while the technical crew began the build for the first of the main stage shows in the theater.

When all the doors in the lobby were closed it was impossible to see what was going on in the theater, but Harry could hear the telltale noises of power tools and people shouting orders back and forth to each other over the din all morning.

The most tedious and most important part of the setup, was getting the wires for all their phones and computers untangled, which meant that as the intern Harry was sprawled out on the floor of the Playhouse entrance trying to untangle eighteen black cords of the same thickness that his supervisor swore had been put away neatly last year.

Harry didn’t really mind the busy work. He liked having a puzzle to solve, and something to focus all of his energy on. Every time he sat up a little to crack his back, he would stare at the lobby doors silently willing them to open so he could start to meet some of the technical crew (everyone knew the tech crew was the best group to become friends with), but they never did.

Harry was so focused on his cord detangling that the heavy stomp of steel-toed work boots shocked him when it first breached the front doors of the Playhouse. The tech crew. Harry had been expecting them to come up through the theater, but they must have gone around outside and up to the mini-mart.

They were all carrying sandwiches wrapped in the tell-tale deli paper from Jeff’s, as well as big bags of chips and various sodas and energy drinks.

  
He glanced up to get a good look at them; leading the way was a broad shouldered boy with brown hair cropped close on the sides and little longer on top, with strong defined arms. He looked to be about Harry’s age wearing a black tank top with a back support belt, and tan cargo pants. His defining feature was definitely the tattoos Harry could see, particularly a bold chevron pattern down the outside of his forearm. Wow, Harry thought, the guy was attractive. Maybe a little too muscular for Harry’s taste, though.

A few others, clearly the deck carpenters, filed in behind him as the whole group made their way out to the balcony overlooking the river where there was some patio furniture so they could sit and eat their lunches.

Harry knew he must look odd staring up at them from the floor next to the entry way tangled in wires, but most of them acknowledged him with a small smile and nod hello as they passed.

They continued on through to the back of the lobby, and Harry was about to go back to his wire detangling when he heard an infectious laugh float through the open doors. The laugh was soft and musical, and Harry snapped his head back up to find the source of it just as the source walked through the door.

When Harry was eight years old, Gemma had kicked a soccer ball at his gut so hard that the wind had been knocked out of him. That was nothing compared to this. Backlit in the door, with the sun streaming in behind him was an angel. Harry saw his silhouette first, it was compact and curvy – he looked to be a few inches shorter than Harry would be if he had been standing – but wiry and lean at the same time. His biceps were clearly defined, and littered with tattoos. Harry’s mouth began to water. The boy had soft, tousled, caramel-colored hair, and he was wearing black jeans with a simple black t-shirt that was tight enough that Harry could see the very slight outline of his abdominal muscles.

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up slightly in a way that reminded Harry of James Dean, which would have made him weak in the knees if he hadn’t already been sitting on the floor.

Harry probably would have been fine at that point. In the blink of an eye he could see this crush come and go with some pining and some serious jerking off on his part, if at that moment the boy hadn’t looked up and made eye contact with him, showing off the most beautiful soft blue eyes Harry had ever seen in his life. His gaze cut through Harry and any dream he had of this boy being a passing fancy.

The boy was still laughing about something his companion had said, but he managed to give Harry a similar polite nod hello as he kept moving through the lobby towards the porch.

Fuck. His ass was glorious. Harry brought his non-wire filled hand up to his eyes overwhelmed as he was by the beautiful vision.

No such luck, he thought as he flopped backwards onto his pile of untangled wires. He was done for.

 

The rest of Harry’s summer was a haze of late nights in the Box Office counting his cash drawer, and daydreams about the boy with the blue eyes who was so devastatingly attractive that Harry could barely look at him.

Later on that first day Harry had met the scene crew, they all sat around eating lunch introducing themselves and telling Harry a little bit about what their jobs were. He was so incredibly grateful. At sixteen he was definitely the baby, even for the interns, most of whom were more in the eighteen to nineteen range.

None of the staff seemed to mind, though. They all took him under their wing, especially one of the Box Office staff members Susette who would go around fondly threatening anyone who gave him so much as a sip of alcohol at their late night parties on the porch of one of the company houses.

One person who remained so painstakingly elusive was Louis Tomlinson, the owner of the blue eyes and perfect body. Harry made an effort to look nice every day, he did his best to make himself come off as more mature, did everything he could to catch Louis’ eye. The most he ever got in return was a smile and a nod.

Except for one night. One beautiful night. August 15th.

Harry remembered the date specifically because it was the night of the meteor shower, and there was no better place to watch a meteor shower than rural Vermont on a clear night. He had his own plans to either stay up or wake himself up at 2am so that he could watch the shower out behind the theater, but before any of that could happen there was a company bonfire at another one of the staff houses.

Towards the end of the night, the bonfire had begun to mellow, and many of the staff had turned in for the night until there were just a few of them left; Liam, the Technical Director and owner of the chevron tattoos; Zayn, the charge who painted all the scenery; Niall, the visiting Lighting designer, and Louis. The Assistant Master Electrician. Harry could hardly believe these _theater_ _professionals_ were including him in their conversations. To be fair, he mostly stayed quiet, but they still managed to make him feel like part of the group.

Niall was the one who finally suggested it. “Boys, the priory is probably the best place to watch the meteor shower. You in?”

Liam, Zayn, and Louis made various sounds of assent before they all turned their attention on Harry.

“Oh, uh. Yeah. Sure,” he mumbled.

“Sweet,” Niall replied.

Emboldened with a sense of belonging, Harry cut in again; “It rained earlier, but if we swing by the Playhouse on the way up there, I’ve got an extra blanket we can all probably fit on so we don’t have to lay in the wet grass.”

Liam grinned widely at him in the dying light from the embers, “Good thinking.” Liam was the driver, so Harry took that to mean that they would be following that plan. Louis and Zayn remained silent.

They all piled into Liam’s tiny little Yaris, with a fair amount of ribbing from Louis about how Liam was basically a glorified construction worked driving a toy car. Harry got the feeling Liam was used to Louis teasing him about it because all he did was wave him off once before making sure everyone was buckled in.

Zayn, Louis, and Harry were squished in the back seat, with Louis in the middle. Harry began to see spots around the edges of his vision from holding his breath. Every time they rounded a corner - which happened frequently, as they were up in the mountains - Louis’s entire body would press against Harry’s side, transferring heat between them. Harry could feel the soft edge of Louis’ hip, different from the hard press of his knee against Harry’s thigh.

Deep in conversation with Niall in the passenger seat, Louis wasn’t really paying attention to where his limbs were going as he spoke with sweeping hand gestures, rudely intruding on Harry’s personal space. Harry was glad he was holding the bundled up blanket over his lap as he tried to recite the alphabet backwards in his head. It didn’t work.

Harry was feeling bold and decided to test the waters. Louis hadn’t noticed him so far this summer, so really, he didn’t have anything left to lose. While Louis was in the middle of telling Niall about some old light that had exploded the day before, Harry subtly moved his leg closer to Louis’, successfully nudging him and putting pressure on his knee.

Nothing he did elicited a response so he settled back against the chilly window in response. Only once he had relaxed did he feel the answering press from Louis’ knee. Convinced he was feeling things, making a bigger deal of it in his own mind, Harry quickly pulled his leg away and Louis’ followed for a brief second with the lack of support. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Louis’ smile dim for a moment before he turned to say something to Zayn. On the off chance that Louis really was disappointed that Harry had pulled his knee away, he pretended to shift, and returned to the way they had been. Touching. On purpose.

Surely it was all in his head.

When they got out of the car at the priory it was so dark out they could barely see their hands in front of their faces. Harry was shivery and on edge, thankful for his skinny jeans as they managed to keep his burgeoning erection somewhat contained. Well, contained enough that it wasn’t discernable in the pitch black night when Liam helpfully took the blanket from him so Niall could help spread it out on the damp grass.

There was a fair amount of shuffling around until they ended up lying down, five across, with Harry on one of the outside edges next to Louis again. Louis had rested his head on Liam’s expansive chest and was curled into him, away from Harry.

Harry tried not to be jealous, he really did. Liam supposedly had a girlfriend back home who he was very happy with, but in Harry’s irrational, infatuated, sixteen-year-old mind, Louis Tomlinson could tempt any straight guy if he really put some effort into it.

They stayed like that for awhile, catching a few falling stars here and there, before the real show began and the sky lit up with slashes of light.

Harry’s hands were locked behind his head to support his neck while light danced across the sky. He hadn’t moved in a few minutes when he felt the barest of brushes across his knee, making the hair on his arms stand on end.

It could have been the wind. It could have been a raccoon. It could have been an owl. That was very likely. One of the other boys was sure to have noticed if a giant owl had swooped down over their blanket, though.

Anything was more plausible to Harry than Louis Tomlinson deliberately reaching over, out of sight, to touch Harry’s leg.

The other boys were completely distracted by the sky when the brushing sensation became heavier, more pointed, and Harry realized that Louis was drawing circles on his thigh, having moved slightly upwards from Harry’s knee.

His breath caught, and tension built at the base of his spine as he began to get fully hard again. He had just calmed himself down, too.

For the rest of the hour they lay out counting as many meteors as they could, Louis continued to play across the top of Harry’s lower thigh, and Harry was ready to combust.

Their vision had adjusted to the darkness, so when they stood up Harry remained hunched over to gather up the blanket, before holding it in front of his lap again. They trudged over to the gravel parking lot and piled into the car again. This time, squeezed in the back seat, Louis immediately reached over and continued lazily caressing the inseam on Harry’s knee, hidden as well in the massive folds of damp cotton.

Harry was the first to get out when Liam dropped him at the base of the Playhouse steps. He barely made it inside the door of his room before he had his hand down his pants and boxers, gripping the base of his cock.

Harry had been hard for so long that the contact was so sweet it was almost painful. He bit down hard on his lip to try and keep his moans in, not wanting to wake up any of the other interns. His room had real walls because he was on the corner, but the other interns were separated by thin layers of plywood. Noise traveled easily and frequently.

Awareness of the other people sleeping in the rooms around him and the chance that one of them could hear him, wake up, and walk in on him getting off on the fact that Louis had been touching him all night made him impossibly harder. It barely took him two minutes of rough uneven stroking before he was spilling into his hand.

With his ears still ringing with release he realized he hadn’t even dropped the blanket, choosing instead to just prop it against his left hip. Immediately he let go of it where he stood and reached for a tissue to clean himself up.

His bones felt heavy, his limbs moving languidly through the air as he changed into a new pair of boxers so that he could get into bed. Cuddled under his duvet in the dark, he thought back over the most mind blowing night he had ever had.

Louis had never even said one word to him.

 

**⭒✯ 2020 ✯⭒**

Harry sat in his apartment in Boston wiping at the corners of his eyes as he lost his battle with the tears that had been threatening to spill over for the past twenty minutes.

It was the end of the summer, and his theater, his beloved Riverney Playhouse, had been in the path of the remnants of a freak hurricane that tore it’s way through Vermont. Irene. That bitch. She had completely devastated a region used to the more frozen variety of precipitation. Streets had flooded, there were mudslides everywhere, sides of mountains had eroded. Everything was a mess.

The beautiful river that ran behind the Playhouse had overflowed and ended up in the basement. A whole eight feet of it. The brand new orchestra pit? Ruined. A grand piano? Ruined. Costumes? Props? Dressing rooms? Ruined.

Thankfully it hadn’t reached the upper floors that contained the historic seats and it didn’t ruin the theater itself.

Harry kept clicking through the pictures of his friends that were still up at the theater even there were only a few performances left. A lot of the technical staff had done everything they could to batten down the hatches, but they were no match for Mother Nature.

Convinced he was making himself sick with worry while they were trying to weather the storm, Harry turned his computer off and climbed into bed. His thoughts and dreams raced with pictures of overflowing rivers and musical directors floating down the river playing grand pianos.

The next morning, the storm had passed, and the theater sent out an All Call. Any previous staff member that anyone up there could think of was on the email. Because Harry still visited frequently, and was so close to some of the administrators, he was definitely included. They needed help, and they needed it now.

Harry thought about his schedule at the museum. His boss was a great guy and incredibly flexible, it was a Friday, he didn’t have any immovable plans over the weekend. Why not? He called out, and his boss was as understanding as Harry thought he would be. He called his mom, they decided she couldn’t go but he would borrow her car, and the next thing he knew he was heading west on Route 2 on his way up to Riverney.

He had swung by his parents’ house in the suburbs and grabbed some of the old clothes he wore when he helped out around the house, and threw as many of his step-dad’s work gloves and clean up tools as he could find. Aside from his toiletries and two relatively decent outfits in case he decided to see his mom’s friend for dinner, the car was filled to the brim with supplies.

Sharon, the woman coordinating all of the staff coming up to help, had called him as soon as he said he could come to let him know they would be able to put him up in company housing. The summer was just winding down, so the housing hadn’t been turned back over to it’s ski-bunny renters for the winter yet.

“Is there a Playhouse room available?” Harry asked for nostalgia’s sake.

“Sure, darling. Are you okay with staying there though?” Harry had always liked Sharon, she was always kind and welcoming, and genuinely wanted to make sure he was comfortable, even though he knew with everyone coming to help, she probably couldn’t afford the space.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, well the only empty room is the one on the corner closest to the balcony. The only one with four real walls, actually.”

Harry smiled to himself, “Yeah, I know it well.”

“Oh! Have you stayed in it before?”

Harry thought back to his late nights as he listened to the shows happening just on the other side of the wall. He would stay up watching episodes of Doctor Who binging on penny candy from the general store while the audience members were mere feet away paying up to eighty bucks a seat. He spent hours and hours reading and passing the time with no cell phone service as he pined over Louis Tomlinson in that room.

“Lived in it for a whole summer,” he replied as he smiled to himself.

“Well, that’s settled then. Can’t wait to see you!”

“You too! Should be up there later on this afternoon.”

He and Sharon said their goodbyes and Harry plugged his phone back into the charger and auxiliary cord so he could listen to his music.

Louis Tomlinson. That was a name he hadn’t thought about in awhile. Harry wondered if he would be able to make it for the clean up.

Every time their family went up for a show, Harry always checked the staff list - both permanent and on a show by show basis - to see if he knew anyone that had come back. As always with staid institutions like Riverney, people came and went, and names that were familiar cropped up every now and again.

Never Louis, though.

Harry had found him on Facebook a few times over the years, dropping in to see pictures of how even more gorgeous he had become. He had never worked up the courage to actually “Friend” him though. There wasn’t a chance in hell Louis would ever remember Harry; the stupid lanky, curly headed boy who was too scared to talk to the older and cooler AME. After working in more theaters, Harry learned that being the assistant master electrician really wasn’t all that cool if you weren’t Louis Tomlinson.

The rest of the ride was uneventful as he passed through the same small towns he had seen so many times before. He only had to take one detour around one town due to the erosion from the storm, so it didn’t put him very far off track.

When he finally arrived it was late afternoon and he was bone tired, but his whole body pulsed with adrenaline as he came around the town center rotary and saw the state of the front lawn. There were props, costumes, sets, drops, all positively caked in mud laid out in the sun.

He parked his car in one of the empty spots staff members usually weren’t allowed to park in (it wasn’t like audience members were really using them right now), and got out to greet Sharon who had seen him coming.

They chatted for a bit and she helped him grab his bag. When he explained all the supplies he brought, she pulled her gloves off and stuck her fingers in her mouth to whistle. The whistle magically conjured two deck hands out of thin air and she set them to work unloading the rest of his car. He was thankful he wouldn’t have to do it himself.

“You know where you’re going, right darling?”

“Sure do,” Harry replied with a smile.

“Well put your stuff down and come back out. We’ve got a few things on the agenda,” she gave him a wink and playfully pushed him towards the front door of the building.

He trudged up the front stairs. When he had been back at his apartment in Boston, everything about their situation had felt so devastating, and it was, but it was still nice to see all of the staff putting on such a positive attitude about everything.

Music was blasting, people were forming assembly lines, the work was getting done, and no one was sitting on the ground wailing in despair.

Inside the building, he hopped the rope at the bottom of the staff staircase and climbed up the much narrower wooden stairs that led to the rooms. The hallways made a sort of U shape, and when he rounded the tight corner to the left, he immediately slammed into another body.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Harry croaked out as he dropped his bag to try and help the other person.

When his body unfolded, Harry could not believe his eyes.

“Louis Tomlinson!” he cried out, and immediately regretted it.

“Why, yes Harry Styles. It is I! Louis Tomlinson!” Louis let out a scoff. “Why did you full name me?”

“I don’t know. I guess that’s just how I remember you,” Harry shrugged.

“Tad formal, isn’t it?”  

Harry blushed, “Yeah, I guess.”

The conversation died a bit as they stood in the hallway staring at each other.

“So--” Louis started.

“How--” Harry began at the same time. He blushed again; “You first.”

“I was, um, just going to ask what you’re up to lately.” Louis asked him, like it had only been a few months since they had seen each other, not ten years.

“Oh, I’m the Visitor Services Manager at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston,” Harry replied.

Louis’ eyes lit up, “Wow, that’s great Harry! I’m actually--”

“Lou?” A voice sounded up the narrow staircase from the main Playhouse living room. It had been a while, but the voice sounded suspiciously like Liam Payne.

Louis paused and gave Harry a rueful smile, almost like he regretted having to cut their time short. “Yeah, Li. I’m up here. Ran across something you might be interested in!” He called down.

In lieu of a reply, all they heard was the heavy thud of work boots on the hollow wooden treads. “Right or left?” Liam asked when he reached the top.

“Left,” Louis replied.

As soon as Liam’s face appeared a grin split across his face, “Harry!”

“Liam!” Harry had just enough time to brace himself before Liam was sweeping him up in a bear hug. Liam was more muscular than Harry, but their heights and builds were much closer than they had been when Harry was still a mess of a sixteen-year-old.

The three of them got wrapped up in conversation in the middle of the cramped hallway before they realized they were holding Harry up from getting settled.

“Are you staying up here?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, room on the end.”

“Me and Li are up at 703,” Louis said, nodding in the general direction of the administrative office up the road. Half of the house was the office, and the other half was much more spacious company housing. Harry was sure it was more comfortable, but it also had filled up first.

“Nice,” Harry replied as all three of the men moved down the hallway towards Harry’s room. He put his bag down and surveyed the small space that was both familiar and foreign at the same time. Ten years will do that.

Louis was the same way; he had the boyish charm from that summer when he was four years older than Harry - _an older man_ \- and the hottest boy Harry had ever seen. At thirty, he was still that cute boy but underneath a layer of maturity and stubble that made Harry clear his throat and look away to try and collect himself. “So, are we really trying to get the show up and running by Tuesday night?

“Yeah. They want to run it during the day on Monday and Tuesday so the actors and crew can get to used to the new tech cues without the use of, you know, the entire downstairs.” Liam added.

“God, this is such a mess.” Harry couldn’t believe his second home was in such shambles.

They fell into a moment of forlorn silence, thinking about all of the work the building would need in the offseason. Everything they did this weekend was merely a band aid to get them through the last week of the run. Then, they would turn the building back over to the town, and the real work could begin.

“But, you’re here now,” Louis told Harry, shrugging the heavy topic off the quickest of the three of them. “We can get some real work done.”

Liam laughed and slapped Louis on the back. “Because our Harry is so handy.”

“Heyyyy,” Harry protested.

Louis’ lips pursed like he was trying to contain his smile, and he shook his head. “You, really haven’t changed at all, have you? You look different on the surface, but inside you’re still Harry.”

Harry was dumbstruck. He didn’t even think Louis would _remember_ him, much less have opinions about how Harry had or hadn’t changed. Louis had barely even acknowledged him that summer.

Liam saved the day once again. “We’ll let you get settled, Harry. I’ve been helping dole out assignments, and I know you’ve worked with costumes before, so I’ll probably put you with the shop. Cool?”

Harry nodded, and shifted his bag up onto the mattress so he could unpack. “Yep.”

“Beautiful. See you down there once you join the fray!” He called over his shoulder as he pushed Louis out of the narrow doorway in front of him and turned towards the door that led to the upper balcony of the theater just on the other side of Harry’s wall.

Once the door slammed shut, Harry let out a deep breath and took stock of his room. This was home again for the next few days. And now, Louis was there messing with his head. It really _was_ like no time had passed at all.

 

It only took Harry three hours to embarrass himself. If he asked Gemma, she would say it was a record. Normally it took him much less time.

When he settled himself, he joined “the fray” as Liam had put it. It took him some time to say hello to all of the other visiting staff members he recognized, but everyone out on the front lawn separated back out into their jobs. Costumes, where Harry was helping, was up next to the front steps, and Lighting, where Louis was, just happened to fall directly in his eyeline.

Not that Harry was paying special attention to Louis and what he was doing at all times.

The staff fell into an easy rhythm and banter amongst themselves. The sound designer, a guy named Cole that Harry vaguely remembered meeting on one of his return visits, had set up a sound system that ran off a generator outside and the whole town center rotary was filled with hits spanning as many decades as would appeal to all of the volunteers.

Liz, the shop manager handed Harry a particularly intricate dress from the current show that they were going to try and salvage as best they could. He used to help her in the shop when he had a day off, so she knew he could handle how meticulously he needed to clean it. There was a small bench set up off to the side of the front steps, and Harry straddled it, leaned over the dress with a small toothbrush, and got to work.

He had gotten into a groove, and had become one with the lightweight canvas of this dress in front of him before he became aware of a familiar guitar intro straining through the air, followed by a heavy synth beat. The song was called “Sit Next to Me” by Foster the People. Harry bit his lip around a smile. Foster the People always made him think of Louis. The summer they worked together, Harry had overheard him talking about the band. In his endless effort to be cool and mature so Louis would notice him, Harry had listened to their music and ended up loving it.

There was a slight twinge in his back and he couldn’t resist the urge to glance at Louis for one second longer.

When Harry leaned back to casually stretch his lower back muscles, he saw Louis sitting on the ground with his legs spread out, an old stage light stood on end in the grass between them. His tongue was trapped between his teeth as he concentrated, but he must have been unconsciously aware of what was going on around him because he was lightly bobbing his head back and forth to the beat of the song as he got all of the gunk out of the delicate mechanism.

No one was paying Harry any mind, so he let himself watch Louis until the song was over. His hair glinted in the sun, and was lifted every few heartbeats or so by the end-of-summer breeze making it’s way through the mountains.

When that song faded into the next Harry leaned back over the garment and continued to brush it in small even strokes to get the mud out.

He stayed that way for some time before there was a commotion over by where Louis had been sitting. Jesy, who had been Louis’ lighting apprentice the summer Harry worked there, and had become his work partner of sorts (from what Harry could tell from Facebook), was messing around with a mud covered rag, pretending to hit Louis with it. The music was still fairly loud and they were a ways away, so Harry couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but Jesy would pretend to whip Louis with the rag before stepping back to shake her hips in time to the music. When Louis shook his head, it clicked; she was trying to goad him into dancing with her.

Harry could hear the sultry beat of the song, he thought it was called “He Like That,” but he couldn’t remember who sang it. Louis had finished with the light he was working on, so he stood up amidst her teasing. Before he picked up the light he shot Jesy a rakish smile and jokingly slapped his hands on his own ass and swiveled his hips smoothly in time with the music.

Harry’s throat dried up as his mouth fell open in shock. Louis’ ass was just as glorious as it had been ten years ago. Holy shit.

When Louis bent over to get a good grip on the light, Harry was pretty sure the non-existent clouds parted and the angels sang. When Louis lifted the heavy metal light and held it in front of his torso showing off his clearly defined biceps, Harry thought he might faint.

He continued to stare and could hear his blood pounding in his ears, as Louis dropped the clean light off and picked up a dirty one. If they had been in a cartoon, Harry was sure he would be floating away on a little cloud with hearts pouring out of his eyes. Louis was just so _capable_.

“Hey, Curly!” A voice cut through Harry’s cloud-floating, but he didn’t fully come back down to earth until he realized that the voice had been Louis’. Busted. “You trying to catch some flies for dinner?” Louis teased.

Harry’s mouth snapped shut, and his body quickly went hot and cold, before the back of his neck prickled and he just knew he was the color of a tomato. Instead of answering, he leaned back over the dress and pretended to work.

He was sure no one else had noticed the exchange, until he heard Jesy whistle suggestively.

It had taken him three hours to be obvious and embarrassing about his crush on Louis. Gemma was probably right, it was a record hold out for him. He would have to text her later when he got cell phone service.

 

There were certain rites of passage working at Riverney, and one of them was attending a party thrown at the Farmhouse. It was an actual farmhouse right on the single road that wound it’s way through town. It was only about a mile away from the center of town and was now used to house the interns because the program had expanded a lot since Harry worked there.

The last show of the season always ran on a skeleton crew, mostly because it was so late in August that the interns had all gone back to school, leaving the Farmhouse empty.

Old and dingy with lots of bunk beds tucked away in various rooms, the Farmhouse was the perfect place to clear away the furniture and play some good old fashioned drinking games. Harry was nursing his first beer, but he would try to make it, and possibly one more, drag on as long as possible. He had offered to swing by 703 and pick up Liam and Louis on the way, so they all piled into his car and made the drive.

Harry’s favorite thing about the Farmhouse by far was the porch swing on the front. When he was sixteen and a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on inside the house, he would come outside and hover until someone gave up their seat on the bench swing so that he could swoop in and claim it.

Once planted he stayed there for the whole night as various people cycled through the seats next to and around him. Something about the open, crisp night air helped him calm down.

That also hadn’t changed in ten years, he thought wryly as he listened to the sound of Louis egging Liam on in his quest to win a game of beer pong.

Come to think of it, Harry hadn’t seen Louis drink all that much tonight, but he hadn’t really been keeping track.

They had all had a long two days of cleaning and getting the theater ready for the reopening of the show. Everyone who had come to the rescue was pitching in; Harry was effectively the new wardrobe intern. While they normally would pre-set costumes in the now water-logged dressing rooms, and wash the garments in the basement every night after each show, they wouldn’t have any of those luxuries any more. Harry was officially stage left wardrobe. He had been out of the theater for too long; the adrenaline high from working a show was even higher now that he was out of practice.

They still had another full day of technical rehearsals before they could get up and running again, and then a performance day. First thing Wednesday, Harry would be back on the road to Boston.

Not five minutes later, Louis was pushing the old spring-back door against it’s protesting hinges and making his way around to join Harry on the bench swing.

Wordlessly, Harry flattened his feet out on the ground in front of him to halt the motion of the swing as Louis hopped up, bum first. Harry couldn’t help but notice that when Louis pushed himself back in the seat completely, his feet didn’t quite touch the ground all the way.

Harry mirrored his actions, pushing himself all the way back against the wooden slats, leaving the toes of his shoes on the ground to get them moving. Neither one of them said anything as Harry kept building momentum until they were swinging steadily enough that he could lift his feet completely and just let them swing.

Louis was the one to break the silence. “Do you come back often?” he asked, looking out at the road as a lone car passed by, bathing them in a brief wash of artificial light.

“Every summer, about twice a summer,” Harry replied.

“Oh wow, that’s a lot.” Louis looked shocked.

“Yeah, well, my family was doing that before I worked here, and it wasn’t ever going to stop,” Harry chuckled as he shifted his gaze to Louis’ face. “You?”

“Few times. Mostly for extra show help. Designed a couple.”

“We probably overlapped a few times,” Harry said, softly.

“Probably,” Louis murmured. It was late enough in the summer that the deafening cricket symphonies of late July had faded to a gentle hum, so Harry had no trouble hearing him.

They lapsed into silence, and Harry could feel an ache in his chest. The bottom line was, he wanted answers. And Louis was just sitting here. It had been ten years since they had last seen each other, there was a strong possibility that it would be another ten before they saw each other again. Whatever Harry had to say might make the rest of the weekend awkward, but he just had to make it to Tuesday night until the show went up again. Then, he could leave first thing Wednesday morning and never think about Louis Tomlinson ever again.

“What was it about that night, Louis?” He blurted before he could second guess himself the way he had that night.

Louis didn’t look surprised. His head fell forward, and he studied his hands instead of the pitch black Vermont wilderness.

“What night?” Louis replied, but Harry knew that he knew.

“The night before you went back to school. With the meteor shower. I had tried so hard all summer to get you to notice me, and you never said anything.” Now that Harry had gotten started, he wasn’t sure he could stop. “You barely even looked at me. Then, that night, all you did was touch my fucking knee and it was like my whole world lit up. What changed?”

Louis shook his head. “That was a long time ago, Harry. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me,” Harry whispered, tone much more desperate than he intended.

Louis sighed heavily. “You were sixteen.”

Harry immediately felt his defenses snap into place, “You were only twenty, Lou, it wasn’t that much older.”

“I was old enough,” Louis bit out. Harry didn’t know when this had dissolved into an argument, but he wasn’t sure he had actually done anything wrong.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Harry asked, confused. He felt like he was flying blind.

“You, Harry. I’m talking about gorgeous, cherubic, sixteen-year-old you with your bright eyes, and your curls, and the way your cute little eyelashes would flutter every time I came by. God, I would freeze every time you got within a few feet of me. It was so inappropriate.” Louis lifted his beer bottle to his lips, taking a sip, and Harry couldn’t even clear his head enough to appreciate the visual. He was shocked to his very core. His entire view of that summer had just radically shifted.

“You mean, you…,” he floundered a bit for the right words.

Thankfully, Louis had gotten on a roll too. “I was so gone for you, but if there was one thing anyone taught me of use, it was that interns were off limits. Especially minors. Like you were. You were so pretty I could barely stand it.”

Harry kind of understood where Louis was coming from, but the ignored teenager inside of him wanted answers. “But, why didn’t you say anything?”

Louis sighed again and began pulling the label on his bottle up with his thumbnail. “I was scared of how I felt about you. I was about to go back to school where I would be able to put you out of my head, so I did.” He shrugged without meeting Harry’s eye.

“That was a long time ago,” Harry added.

“Yeah, and I never did quite put you out of my head,” he chuckled, but it lacked humor.

“Well. I’m here now,” Harry said, with more courage than he thought he possessed.

“Yes, you are.” Louis finally looked up at him.

Harry had been leaning closer and closer towards Louis as their discussion got more and more serious, and Louis began to move forward as well.

When they met in the middle, everything around Harry faded away. Crickets went silent, the porch light extinguished with the lowering of his eyelids, his whole being became focused on Louis and the lingering tang on his lips from where they had been wrapped around his beer bottle.

As Louis swept his tongue across the seam of Harry’s lips, his heartbeat began to pound in his ears.

Harry likened it to the first bite of a favorite food; it tasted just as amazing as expected, but it had a bittersweet edge because every bite was one closer to the end.

For the first time in Harry’s life, he developed an immediate sense of self preservation and pulled back. It took more effort than he was willing to admit.

“Louis.” He leaned their foreheads together. The swing had come to an almost complete stop now that they were to preoccupied to push with their feet.

“Mhmm?” Louis hummed.

“This is a bad idea,” Harry whispered on barely a breath of air.

“I beg to differ. I think it’s a _great_ idea,” Louis smiled, and Harry mourned the fact that he couldn’t really see it, but he also couldn’t bear to move out of Louis’ space.

“I’m not really up for a weekend fling,” Harry replied. He had no idea where this conviction was coming from inside of him, but as the words were spilling out, he realized it was true. If he were to go any further with Louis, he would be ruined for anyone else. Self preservation.

“Me neither,” Louis replied as he slipped his hand deeper into the curls at the back of Harry’s neck, putting a little pressure on Harry’s muscles there, to keep him anchored.

Harry let his eyes close again. “We should stop then,” he began to resist Louis’ hold and pull back.

“Why do we have to stop?” Louis asked, confusion coloring his tone.

“I just said I wasn’t up for a weekend thing. And I definitely don’t want to do long distance. I’m not sure I could handle that.” Untangled from Louis’ orbit, at least temporarily, it was Harry’s turn to shift his gaze to the abandoned road in front of them.

Louis was quiet for a moment, and Harry could tell he wanted to say something, but before he could, the springs on the door squeaked interrupting the otherwise tranquil night. Jesy emerged from the house with Cole, giggling, her faded red lips wrapped around the end of a cigarette.

“Hiya boys, whatcha up to out here?” She and Cole came over to lean against the railing in front of the swing. They blocked his and Louis’ view of the road against the inky night sky, and very effectively killed the moment.

“Getting some fresh air,” Harry replied, turning his head to take a deep breath from the direction that didn’t smell like Louis’ delicious skin.

“It does feel better out here,” Cole observed in his low southern drawl. If they were anywhere else, and Louis Tomlinson wasn’t sitting right next to him eclipsing any kind of attraction he could hold for anyone else, Harry definitely would have taken his chances with Cole.

Though, from the way Cole’s eyes tracked the cigarette as Jesy took a drag, his attentions would be elsewhere tonight.

They spent the rest of the party on the swing as Jesy and Cole, and then Liam and more of the staff rotated through the open space on the porch. There were a few times that it was just Harry and Louis, but never for more than the amount of time it took for the door to slam open again.

At one point, Harry bent one of his knees up, leaving one foot on the ground to keep the bench swinging. Under the shadow of Harry’s knee, Louis shifted his weight and made sure his hand was hidden, but still touching Harry.

It was like that night under the stars all over again. As soon as Louis became tactile, Harry lost all sense of reason.

But he would remain strong. Harry didn’t know where Louis was living, he hadn’t told Harry, but the life of a lighting technician was a nomadic one. Harry knew, he had enough friends in the field. Friends that had to deal with terminal long distance relationships. Harry just wasn’t up for that with Louis; he wanted it all. Once he had Louis’ full attention, he doubted he would be able to give it up.

Eventually, Liam came out and declared it was time to go home because Jesy and Cole had commandeered one of the upstairs rooms, pushing two of the twin beds together for nefarious purposes. Harry smiled to himself as they walked down the gravel drive to his car. At least someone was getting some this weekend.

 

Monday was jam packed with rehearsals. Louis had been at the Playhouse at the crack of dawn, already finishing his lunch break when Harry was called to the stage at 10 AM.

Because it had been so long, Harry forgot about how difficult it could be on his back to pull a wardrobe shift. There was a lot of standing around, and a lot of hunching over making sure the costumes were correct while they were on a human body. By the end of the night, he was exhausted and it was well past midnight.

Everyone had just left the building, so it was just Harry and the one or two other staff members sleeping in the rooms upstairs. He had his side of the hallway to himself, but there were two girls on the other side. The sound didn’t travel well between the two sides because there were two full bathrooms in between, so it allowed him at least an illusion of privacy.

He shut off all of the lights in the downstairs lobby, kitchen, parlor, and the house lights, leaving just the classic theater ghost light on stage.

Trudging upstairs, he tumbled into bed, barely having enough energy to peel off his clothes.

 

The dim early morning light leaked in through Harry’s nonexistent curtain, and when he turned over, he could feel a twinge in his back from the day before. He probably wouldn’t be getting back to sleep, and he definitely needed food if he was going to take a painkiller.

Harry threw on a ratty old sweatshirt and some yoga pants and made his way downstairs to the communal staff kitchen. When he pushed the door open, he was met with the sight of an open refrigerator door, and a bum sticking out from behind it. The same bum that had killed him when he was sixteen, and looked just as lush and biteable today.

It was too early in the morning for this. Harry needed coffee.

The kitchen was narrow, and he wouldn’t be able to get by, so he cleared his throat to alert Louis to his presence.

Louis snapped up, closing the fridge quickly. He had a Coke in one hand and a Pop Tart in the other.

“Are you on break?” Harry asked, yawning and rubbing at one of his eyes. Louis nodded. “How much time do you have?”

“Thirty.”

“Cool. Go sit on the porch, I’ll make you real breakfast,” Harry replied, waving his hands to dismiss Louis.

“What if I want to stay here?” Louis tilted his head towards the kitchen table in question.

“Then stay. But when I’m done cooking I’m eating on the porch.”

“Deal.” Louis sat down at one of the cheap wooden thrift store chairs and sat back to play on his phone. Or at least make it look like he was playing on his phone. Harry could still feel his eyes on the back of his neck.

Harry quickly set up the old fashioned stovetop percolator for coffee before whipping up some eggs and popping four slices of bread in the toaster. He scrambled the eggs, set out the nice butter, and retrieved his special cranberry jelly.

Putting everything on a tray, he turned to see that Louis was already up and waiting for him to finish.

The left the kitchen and walked side by side across the lobby to the old french doors. As soon as Louis opened them, the sound of the dam behind the theater intensified.

They sat like that, eating their breakfast in companionable silence, before Louis broke it.

“You know, Harry, I live in Boston, too. I teach lighting design at Emerson, and I freelance on the side.” Harry’s mouth dropped open, toast still in it, while Louis checked his watch. “Whoops! Looks like my thirty is over. Thanks for breakfast darling, we should do this again sometime.”

Louis leaned down, popped a kiss on Harry’s forehead, and then left the porch the same way they came. Harry was starting to prefer the jump over the railing into the river exit, himself.

 

For the rest of the day, Harry only saw Louis in passing. Fiery glances across the wings while the actors played out the expatriate dramatics of the 1920s and 30s. One brief lingering touch to Harry’s forearm as he tried to pin a shawl in place during preset and accidentally backed up into Louis.

Harry was on fire.

His wardrobe track always finished early, and he had been training someone to take over for the last few performances when he went back to Boston, so after intermission he was free as a bird.

When he was working the Box Office he had loved to be in the lobby during performances because it was so still in the expansive room, but just on the other side of the door there was so much energy and life.

Because his usual sneaky pathway through the basement was out of the question, he slipped out the back of the theater into the dewy night, coming around the building, and walking back in the front door.

He intended to head up to his room and wait for the show to finish so he could make sure his trainee knew how to reset, but when he passed by the open doors to the lobby, he was met with a curious sight.

Louis was sitting by himself on the little parlor settee under the window that looked out over the river. The Box Office was closed, the rest of the tech staff was backstage or at home, there was no one left to bother them.

Harry stepped into the parlor and Louis finally looked up.

“Hi,” Louis said with his smug little sideways smile. He knew what he had been doing to Harry all day. He was such a fucking tease.

The cast must have finished a song because there was a burst of applause in the otherwise quiet space.

“Hi,” Harry replied. “Are we going to talk about this morning?”

“Sure,” Louis shrugged. “I tried to tell you multiple times that I live in Boston, and I kept getting interrupted. Not my fault.”

Harry tried to maintain his very serious face, but couldn’t. Louis must have been such a menace as a child, and Harry was endeared. He smiled and rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to join me?” Louis rubbed his hand over the cushion of the couch in an exaggerated manner, wiggling his eyebrows.

Harry pushed off the door frame, laughing, and crossed the room to sit down where Louis had indicated. He didn’t have to sit as close to Louis as he did, but he was just following Louis’ directions.

“Look, Harry, in all seriousness. I realize you weren’t exactly banking on me living in Boston, so I don’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for just because I’m nearby,” Louis said. His eyes were downcast and he was tracing over the 8 tattoo on his finger.

Harry studied him for a few more moments, making him sweat.

He finally put Louis out of his misery; “I’d really love to go out with you when we get home.”

Louis’ eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded.

“Can I kiss you?” Louis asked, staring directly at Harry’s lips. He could feel the added scrutiny, so he darted his tongue out to lick over his bottom lip, and Louis groaned.

Harry leaned in before he could, bringing their mouths together.

It wasn’t like the first time. The first time they had been drinking a bit, and Harry thought Louis was someone he could never be with. But this time, there was a promise. More. They could be something. He wasn’t sure what that was yet, but it was a start.

He had a start. With Louis Tomlinson.

All things considered, they really didn’t know that much about each other. They hadn’t really talked all that much one on one, they just had snatches of information from conversations or Facebook over the years. Harry knew, though. There was something exquisitely right about being with Louis.

Wrapped up there on the sofa, kissing sweetly, or that morning in the kitchen when Harry had cooked while Louis just sat there. Maybe playing on his phone, maybe watching him. It was like they were just immediately comfortable in each others’ presence.

Pretty soon Louis deepened the kiss and suddenly the distance between their bodies was too much for Harry to stand. He pulled away, amidst Louis’ protests, before double checking over his shoulder that the rest of the lobby was empty.

The second act had just started, so they still had about an hour left of run time.

Harry stood up, adjusting himself slightly, before pushing Louis back against the couch and straddling him. The back of the couch wasn’t very high, so after Harry leaned down to reconnect their lips, he planted his hands flat against the cool panes of glass in the river window, grinding his hips down in little circles on Louis’ lap.

When Harry trailed his kisses along Louis’ jaw, Louis leaned his head back and let out a moan.

“Harry,” Louis gasped when Harry nuzzled his nose against the stubble on his jaw. “We have to get out of here. Someone could walk in on us.” Louis was panting heavily, but his words still had an impact on Harry, and his hips slammed down into Louis’ rubbing their clothed cocks together. The idea that anyone could walk in off the street, wander their way back to the parlor, and see them tangled in each other’s arms, made Harry whimper deep in the back of his throat.

He thought he covered up the noise enough, but Louis was pushing him back a bit. “Or maybe that’s a good thing?” Louis was smirking at Harry, assessing him a bit now that he had learned this very secret thing that Harry had managed to hide from his past boyfriends. “We’ll have to explore that later, darling. Now is not the time, but I like the way you think.”

Harry blushed and leaned back down to press a kiss to Louis’ jaw in appreciation of his lack of judgement. “Can we go to 703? Need to be with you,” he whispered.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me. No, we can’t. Liam and I got the big room with two beds. And there are too many other people.”

“Upstairs, then,” Harry pushed himself up off of Louis lap. His erection had to be blatantly obvious where it was trapped in his black skinny jeans, but they could probably make it upstairs before anyone actually walked in on them.

There was another large round of applause drifting from the theater doors, bringing Harry’s awareness back in full force.

“Shit. Fuck. I have to clean up.” He cursed this show, everyone in this building, and the stupid costumes that he had already cleaned with a toothbrush. What more did they want from him?

“Harry, your radio.” Louis pointed to the headset hanging off Harry’s belt loop. Harry had totally forgotten he was wearing it. He frantically reached for the call button.

“Marnie, are you there?”

There was a good twenty seconds of silence during which Harry seriously contemplated storming through the theater to find her. He also had completely ignored walkie-talkie procedures and etiquette but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Thank God. Harry went to press the call button again, but fumbled it as Louis’s lips began their own trek along Harry’s jaw line. His warm hand was trailing down the front of Harry’s chest, and he just barely lifted up the hem of Harry’s t-shirt to place his roughened palm on the sensitive skin of Harry’s hip.

Harry  finally got a grip on the cheap plastic button. “Can you-- can you handle clean-up and reset for me? I’ve got to… pack.”

“Sure as long as by ‘pack’ you don’t mean stare at Louis longingly until you creep him out.”

“Marnie!” he hissed. “You are on the _radio_.”

“It’s not like she’s wrong,” Jesy piped up.

There was another crackle of static, “Sorry dude, she’s got you there.” Cole added.

“Don’t you all have a show to be running? Why are you on the radio?” Then he remembered something, “Cole, aren’t you like two feet from audience members right now?”

He was met with silence. “You all suck,” he added.

Louis grabbed the radio out of Harry’s hand and threw it down on the couch before turning his body back into Harry. Someone else would find it.

Harry reached down and grabbed ahold of Louis’ wrist where it was bunching up the hem of his t-shirt and latched onto it, pulling it away from his skin.

“Come with me,” he said, taking charge, and practically dragging Louis up the roped off staff staircase. When they reached the top of the stairs they ran into Kristen, one of the girls who lived on the other hallway, and she wished them a good night. She was going to be packing as well, she informed them.

Harry could feel his entire body flush. There he was, standing in this small cramped hallway, with probably the most obvious erection known to man, getting ready to take Louis back to his room.

_Shit_ , he thought to himself. Louis Tomlinson. He was going to hook up with Louis Tomlinson in the same tiny little twin bed where he dreamed about him all those years ago. He thought maybe he was being a little presumptuous, but then Louis managed to manipulate the conversation so that it would be awkward for Kristen to keep it going. As soon as she rounded the corner into her own hallway, he pulled Harry around and pressed him against the wall, devouring his mouth.

“Holy shit, she definitely could tell how hard you are for me,” he whispered.

She probably could see how much Louis had affected Harry. She probably knew exactly what they were going to do. Harry whined in the back of his throat.

“Hush, let’s go. We’re so close. I’m going to lay you out on that tiny little mattress.” Louis gave Harry’s arm a tug and pulled him away from the wall, and then it was his turn to drag Harry down the hallway.

Harry very carefully reached into the even tighter than normal pocket of his jeans and pulled out the key to his room, but he had trouble unlocking it. He was so distracted by Louis, his fingers felt like bricks, and for a generally clumsy person, he had never felt so uncoordinated.

Louis helped him finally get a grip on the key, giving the door knob a little jerk so the swollen wood would give way.

When they were finally inside, Harry moved as far into his tiny room as possible so that Louis had enough room to move around. Suddenly feeling awkward, he was occupied himself by cleaning up his non-exisitent stuff.

Not being able to stand the silence, he looked up and saw that Louis had been leaning against the door with a smirk on his face. Watching him.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the audience applauded another number. Based on the amount of time it had taken them to come upstairs, there was about twenty minutes left in the second act.

That meant that for the next twenty minutes, there were three hundred people sitting just on the other side of the wall. He did the calculations in his head. The closest seat was probably about ten, maybe fifteen feet to the left of his wall. The stairs leading to the balcony were a lot closer, though. He actually shared the wall with the stairs.

Whatever was about to happen, they had twenty minutes before audience members would walk within a foot of him and Louis.

A shudder went through his body as Harry grew impossibly harder.

“I don’t even have to touch you, do I?” Louis said, still leaning against the door as if they had all the time in the world.

“We-- Um, we only have about twenty minutes left of the show,” Harry nodded in the general direction of the audience members.

“Yes, I know,” Louis replied. “Whatever shall I do with you until then?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well, if I have to explain it, babe, there is a bigger conversation we need to have,” Louis teased, but he finally pushed off the door and came closer to Harry, reaching his hand out again to take hold of the front of Harry’s shirt.

Harry blushed deeply. “No, I know. I just thought…” he trailed off, not really knowing how to articulate what he thought Louis would do. At most he had hoped for a quick handjob.

Louis brushed his mouth against Harry’s as he grabbed them hem of his own t-shirt. He pulled back for a moment so he could pull the dark cotton material over his head, exposing his incredible torso.

Harry couldn’t help but bring a finger up to trail down the middle of Louis’ sternum, and end it’s path on the soft little hill of skin around Louis’ navel.

“Your turn,” Louis murmured against Harry’s lips.

They quickly finished undressing, awkwardness gone, as Louis pushed Harry back until he was fully laid out on the thin, cheap twin bed mattress. At least it was a wooden frame, so they wouldn’t have to deal with loud squeaky springs.

Louis balanced himself over Harry, leaning down to capture his mouth. Harry lost himself in the sensation of having Louis surround him. This really was everything his sixteen-year-old self had dreamed of, a thought that made Harry begin to giggle into Louis’ kiss.

He blushed as Louis pulled back, but couldn’t stop laughing.

“I didn’t realize my kissing you was so humorous,” Louis teased.

Harry covered his face with one of his hands. “God, this is so embarrassing, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, no.” Louis reached up and tried to pry Harry’s hand off his face. “What’s wrong? Tell me so I can fix it, please.”

Harry rushed to reassure him, “No! Nothing is wrong. I just… I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this.” He squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look Louis in the eye. “I just used to think about this, you, a lot. You know… in this bed.” If he tried hard enough, he might be able to make himself disappear with just the power of his embarrassment.

Louis let the tension go in his elbows, laying his body fully flush against Harry’s, the soft skin of his abdomen pressing down on Harry’s still very hard cock. Harry groaned at the friction.

“Think about me? Like think about me or _think_ about me?” Louis asked with a mischievous grin on his face.

“This is stupid, weren’t we kissing? Let’s go back to that,” Harry said.

Louis put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and shifted his body so that he began to move back and forth over Harry, trapping their cocks together between them.

“I don’t think it’s stupid, which one was it?” He asked again as he leaned down to suck a bruise on Harry’s collarbone.

Harry’s overwhelming embarrassment and the sharp little prick of pain from Louis’ mouth against his skin made him arch into the sensation, and he could feel himself begin to leak a little onto his own stomach where his cock was achingly hard.

“The second one,” he mumbled, barely audible.

“What was that?” Louis asked, devilish smile back in full force.

“The second one.” Harry replied more definitively.

“You got off thinking about me?” Louis paused in his ministrations to lean back a bit.

“I was sixteen, and you were you. It didn’t take much.”

Louis finally brought his hand down and wrapped it around Harry’s cock, swiping his thumb across the head to collect the precome Harry had felt. The incredible relief at finally having a hand on his cock made him throw his head back into the pillow and moan.

Louis began to move his body down the bed but paused to look up at Harry from underneath his eyelashes, “Shh, baby. Wouldn’t want everyone next door to hear you through the wall.”

Harry’s hips jerked up violently pumping his cock through Louis’ loose grip. He bit his lip to try and keep the sounds in, but Louis seemed determined to push his limits. He dipped his head and took Harry as far down his throat as he could.

The whines and moans stayed at the back of Harry’s throat as he breathed heavily through his nose, determined to stay quiet.

Louis pulled up off Harry and darted his tongue out to lick at the underside of his cock just as they could hear the audience react to another song. If Harry was correct, they only had a few more minutes to go before everyone would be exiting the theater right past his room.

“Lou,” he moaned as Louis did something particularly precise with his tongue, “Need you inside me.”

When Louis pulled off for the final time he was panting. “Do you have lube, condoms?”

Harry groaned. Shit. It had been awhile since he checked his bag. “If I do they’re in the side pocket,” he replied, nodding at the duffel.

“If?” Louis asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Just check, please. Sorry if this exceeded even my own wildest expectations,” Harry griped.

Louis dug in the bag and miraculously retrieved a small bottle of lube and a condom that looked like it had been in there for awhile. When he came back to the bed, he leaned in and kissed Harry deeply, making sure their skin touched at every juncture.

“It exceeded my expectations, too.” He whispered, crystal blue eyes far more serious than before.

Without another word, Louis moved back down the bed so he could hitch Harry’s legs up, making sure he still fit between them, squished together as they were. He took his time opening Harry up, and his fingers were strong and sure, until Harry was writhing on the bed, begging.

“Please, Lou,” he choked out. “Ready.”

Louis moved back up the bed and put the condom on before pausing right at Harry’s entrance to tease the head of his cock against his rim.

Slowly but surely, Louis’ cock entered him, and the incredible fullness was better than anything Harry had ever felt. Louis was thick inside of him, and when he began to move, his thrusts were slow and steady, but unrelenting.

Harry lifted his legs off the bed and wrapped them around Louis’ waist, determined to get as close to him as possible.

“That’s it, baby,” Louis rasped, “Look so beautiful like this, spread out for me.” He trailed off because his words were drowned out by the audience applauding the finale of the show, the music filtering through the clapping.

They didn’t have long, and Harry felt himself clench around Louis. Louis slowed down until he was just barely moving back and forth. Under the noise cover of the applause, Harry whined fully this time.

“Lou, feel so good, keep going,” he begged.

“Of course, I’ll stop teasing, I promise” he replied, smirking,  just as Harry heard the first person grab the railing of the stairs on the other side of the wall.

Harry gasped, drawing in a breath and holding it, cock twitching against the now flushed skin of his stomach.

Louis began to enter Harry again, and on one particularly deep thrust he changed the angle just so and slammed against Harry’s prostate.

“Oh, fuck!” Harry blurted out.

“Shh, gotta keep quiet.” Louis leaned forward, bringing their chests together and getting impossibly deeper. He latched onto the bruise he had already made on Harry’s collarbone and began to suck and lick around it, adding to his collection.

Harry’s nails dug into the skin of Louis back as Louis shifted his weight so he could wrap a hand around Harry’s cock.

The noise increased on the other side of the wall as people were chatting on their way out, discussing the performance and the theater’s ability to recover after the show.

Everything crashed over Harry all at once, and he gave into the determined strokes of Louis’ hand.

“That’s it baby, come for me. The way you wanted to all those years ago, the way you did. Except now I’m here with you, can you feel me?” Louis nipped at Harry’s neck, and that was all it took for Harry to drown in flashing lights and pure waves of pleasure. Vaguely, he felt Louis pump into him erratically as he followed Harry over the edge.

Not having anywhere else to go, Louis carefully disposed of the condom, and then collapsed on top of Harry’s chest, leaving the mess between them.

“Ugh, gross.” Harry groaned on a laugh.

“Not my fault the bed is so tiny,” Louis replied, his stubble tickling Harry’s chest. “We should shower.”

Harry leaned his head up to kiss Louis languidly, pleasure still humming in his bones. “Good thing we’re within feet of my favorite showers in the world.”

Louis looked at him skeptically, “Seriously? These showers?”

“Do you doubt me?” It was Harry’s turn to smirk. He knew that showers in the middle of an old building in rural Vermont should by all accounts have all the pressure of a bird bath, but these were amazing.

“Yes, yes I do.”

Harry smiled. “It’ll be tight, the stall is pretty cramped, but it’s so worth it.”

“You’re on. How do we get there, though?” Louis asked.

“The door is just across the hall. We can make it,” Harry shrugged. They stood up and he grabbed his towels before they both bolted across the hall into the open bathroom door.

Feeling bold, Harry dropped his towel again as soon as they were within sight of the shower stalls and leaned in to turn on his favorite one.

When he looked back over his shoulder Louis was naked, having hung both towels on the rack, and he was eyeing Harry’s body, chuckling.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing, I can just tell you’re going to be a handful,” Louis replied trying to bite down his grin.

His grin was infectious, as Harry reached back under the stream to make sure the water was warm enough. “In a good way?”

Louis came up behind him, his softened cock pressing against Harry’s hip as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “In the best way.”

Harry made Louis get into the shower by himself first to get the full experience, and that was how he ended up having to force himself into the stall as Louis yelled about not wanting to ever share a shower so good ever again, no matter how great the sex was.

That night they slept in Harry’s boxers and hoodies, the only clean clothes he had left, cuddled in the tiny bed. They thought about trudging up to Louis’ full sized bed in 703 but that meant answering a lot of questions from other staff members that they weren’t sure they were ready for yet. Also, Louis had to report at the Playhouse at 6AM anyway, so it killed two birds with one stone for him.

Harry had the added benefit of the cuddling.

__  
_ _

The next morning, Louis’ alarm went off at 5:30AM, but Harry had somehow ended up the little spoon, so he reached out and turned it off before burrowing back into the warmth of the blankets and Louis’ arms. Maybe, if he was lucky, Louis didn’t hear it.

He knew he was out of luck when he felt the hand Louis had thrown across his waist, drawing him in close, shift and release.

Louis pressed a kiss to the back of Harry’s head before he began the process of extricating himself from between the wall and Harry.

“Wait,” Harry said. Louis paused his movements immediately and waited as Harry attempted to rearrange himself on the bed so that they were facing each other. Their lips met in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss, but it set off butterflies in Harry’s stomach nonetheless. “What time are you done?”

“Officially? At 9 when the rehearsal crew comes in. Then I was going to hang around for the day until Liam can leave before the show starts.” Louis replied, pushing some of Harry’s hair back and tucking it behind his ear.

“How about, um-- If you’re not opposed, that is…” Harry trailed off, suddenly extremely nervous even though they had already talked about seeing each other once they got back home.

“What is it, Harry?”

“I could maybe sleep until then, make you breakfast, and then we could ride back to Boston together?” Harry rushed out so he didn’t lose his nerve.

Louis didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at Harry, playing with his mass of curls that Harry was sure was a tangled mess by now.

“I’d really like that. Same breakfast as yesterday?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded, too worried he would say something that it was _definitely_ too soon for. “I’ll run and get my stuff after I’m done, then we can skip town,” Louis added.

Harry kissed him again, just because he could. “Sounds like a plan.”

They ended up kissing lazily for another ten minutes still wrapped up in Harry’s extra blankets before Louis realized he was going to be late despite already being in the building. Harry only hoped no one asked questions when Louis reported to the production office via the upstairs hallway instead of the front door.

Too excited to go back to sleep, he managed to pry himself out of the covers and get his own stuff packed up. During the day yesterday he had grabbed all of his step dad’s supplies and loaded the car back up, so all he needed was his bag, and apparently Louis.

The handful of hours before Louis was done passed like molasses until Harry made his way down to the kitchen to make one last Vermonter breakfast, though he had made sure to stop by the country store and stock up on more of his favorite cranberry jelly to take home. Maybe he could even make the same breakfast for Louis back at his apartment in Boston.

That wasn’t even a distant possibility any more, it was very very real. Harry smiled to himself as he scrambled the eggs.

“What’s got you smiling at the stove?” Jesy asked, disrupting Harry’s peaceful morning.

He was not successful in wiping said smile off his face, though, before he turned to answer her. “Nothing,” he replied.

“Mmm. Yeah. I would totally believe you, except that I know Louis unexpectedly changed his plans to go home this morning.” She said moving into the alcove with the kitchen table where Louis had sat just yesterday watching Harry cook.

“Really? That’s weird.” Harry wasn’t sure how much Louis had told her, and he didn’t love the idea of kissing and telling.

“He was pretty tight lipped about it, but had the same stupid dopey face that you do,” she added.

With the worst timing in the world, Louis finally opened the door to the kitchen but he wouldn’t be able to see Jesy from his vantage point. “Hey babe, breakfast smells amazing,” Harry tried desperately to signal him to stop talking but he wasn’t paying enough attention. “I’m all packed and ready to--”

“Ready to what? _Babe_?” Jesy asked. She snickered at their shocked faces for a moment before she continued. “Honestly, I don’t even care as long as I get to stop hearing about how pretty Harry’s curls are or how good he smells. Dibs on first godmother. See you at home, Lou!” She called as she exited the kitchen.

Louis raked a hand over his face before he slung his arm around Harry’s waist. “Sorry about that. So much for a little privacy,” he mumbled into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry preened under the attention and the minor bit of insight into the crush it turned out Louis had on him as well. “That’s alright,” he replied quietly as he separated the eggs onto two plates. They moved easily around each other as Louis buttered the toast and got out the cranberry jelly.

“Porch?” He asked Harry.

“Porch.”

They opened up the old french doors to the familiar rush of the water falling over the dam. It was still high in volume as the excess water from the storm continued to make it’s way down the mountain. And really, the river and the storm were the culprits of Harry’s trip up here. Without them, he never would be sitting next to Louis, staring down his future.

He had ten more months before his next trip up to the theater for the first show of next year’s season, but he was sure nothing would ever beat this trip.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> The exchange post is [HERE](https://50reasons.tumblr.com/post/167522171237/lose-myself-in-time-chapters-11-14433-words) :)


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